The Horse Farm - Chapter 2-39

Quebracho was located near the corner of a large, L-shaped shopping center. The parking lot was busy and most of the spaces were taken. Louise parked near the far end of the lot and walked past two other restaurants, a gym, and a row of specialty shops.

"It figures that I couldn't even find a good space!" she muttered.

A bouncer in a black suit stood beside a double door of dark wood and faux iron work. He pulled one of the doors open as Louise arrived. She wondered whether he was going to ask her for identification, but he didn't.

Antonio was sitting to Louise's left at a table across from the bar. He smiled and rose to his feet; his slender six-foot two-inch frame and raven hair turned a few heads.

"You were right!" Louise exclaimed.

"About what?" Antonio asked while slipping Louise's jacket gently from her shoulders. 

"It is a nice bar!"

"I'm glad that you think so," he said, relaxing a bit. "And listen! No tango music!" 

Louise let out a laugh. "I guess you were right about that, too!" she said with a beaming smile.

A muscular waiter approached the table. "What can I get for you, Miss?"

"Malbec? Not too dry?"

"Right away!" Louise glanced at the waiter's body as he walked away. "Maybe he belongs to the gym next door," she thought to herself.

"Thank you for coming," Antonio said.

"You know I always come for you," Louise teased with a wink.

"Oh, well, your sense of humor hasn't changed!"

"Sorry!" Louise said, now feeling mildly embarrassed. "I just couldn't waste a setup like that."

"I'll have to be more careful," Antonio said with a grin.

Louise glanced around the room. The dark wood had an aged look. A staircase with a decorative iron railing led to a second level with additional tables. A series of black and white photos lined the walls.

"Is that Buenos Aires?" she asked.

"Yes," Antonio answered without much emotion.

"You couldn't find a place with pictures of Montevideo?" she joked.

"You know, I have tried!"

"That's what this town needs," Louise remarked. "A good Uruguayan restaurant."

"Indeed!"

They shared a brief and nervous laugh.

"Malbec for the lady," said the waiter as he placed the glass before Louise. "Would you like a refill, sir?"

"I'm okay for now," Antonio responded. The waiter moved on and took glasses from another table into the back.

"What are you drinking?" Louise asked directly.

"A Sauvignon Blanc from Chile."

"That sounds refreshing!"

"Yeah, but now that I think of it, I should have gotten the Malbec."

"Would you like a taste?" Louise asked.

"No, that's okay. I don't like to mix red and white."

"I'll drink to that!" Louise raised her glass, and Antonio responded in kind.

"Okay, so why are we here again?" Louise asked.

"I don't remember," Antonio said. "I think you asked me to have a drink with you."

"No, you asked me to have a drink with YOU!"

"I did?"

"I think so?"

"Maybe you're right," Antonio conceded. "Or maybe I'm just drinking too much."

"That can happen," Louise observed.

"So, anyway, I wanted to say that I'm sorry for snapping at you the other night."

"You didn't snap," Louise countered. "You were being honest. I think that if anyone should apologize it's me."

"No apology necessary," Antonio insisted. "Not between us."

"That's sweet, Antonio. But, obviously, this situation bothered you."

"You could say that."

"Well, again, whether you think it's necessary or not, I do apologize for hurting you."

"Thank you," he paused for a moment. "I understand. I do. Things between us..."

"...kind of happened fast," she said, completing his thought.

"Yes," he agreed. "Very fast."

"And at the time, I don't think that I realized that it was going to turn into something serious."

"Entiendo. No digas más..."

"I should have told you," she insisted.

"I guess so," Antonio pondered. "But then, maybe things would have been different. Or maybe they would have been the same."

"Do you think so?"

"It's hard to say. It's in the past."

"I know," she said. "I just don't think that you would have been interested..."

"I was interested in you from the day that we met," Antonio confided.

Louise's heart raced. "Really?"

"Yes. I still remember thinking ... that I shouldn't be thinking what I was thinking. Does that make sense in English?"

"Yes, it makes sense," she said. "Because I felt the same way. I even told my friends and ..."

Louise stopped. She realized that she had just admitted more than the should have.

"And what did they say?"

"Well, it was obviously a complicated situation," Louise explained.

"I understand."

"I mean, they didn't discourage me from getting to know you - since they knew how I was feeling. But they didn't want me to get hurt, either."

"It sounds as though your friends are very understanding."

"Yes and no," she muttered thinking about Jo and the night that she had spent with Walter. Louise still felt partially responsible; she had been with Antonio that evening.

"Are you okay?" Antonio asked.

"Yeah. Let's just not talk about that anymore."

"Okay," he agreed. "But, now, things are good with you ... and the guy?"

"Walter," Louise asked. "Yes, things are fine."

"Well, I am relieved to hear that everything returned to normal."

"Normal," Louise thought to herself. "Nothing about my life is normal." 

Things hadn't been normal since the day that this dashing man had first walked into her life. She was fascinated from the first day, not just with his looks, but with his gentle voice and cultured manner. Despite her best intentions, she fell in love, deeply in love, and she sensed that he felt the same for her.

When he returned home at the end of his assignment, she cried for two months - every day - and never let on to Walter that she was heartbroken. That's not normal. It was torture. And when things finally seemed to be getting back on track, she discovered that Walter had had affair with one of her closest friends.

"None of this is normal!" Louise thought. "It all started with him! He's sitting right in front of me, and he doesn't know any of this. Should I tell him? Should I open up and be honest? My God, he'll think that I'm a crazy person. I'll probably get fired."

"Louisa?" Antonio asked.

"Huh?"

"¿Estás bien? Are you okay?"

"I'm ... I'm good. Sorry! The wine ... the wine is really good!"

"Would you like some more?"

"No," Louise decided. "I think maybe I should probably go. Is that okay?"

"It's fine," Antonio insisted. "I'm glad that we were able to talk."

"Yeah! Me, too! It was nice."

  

'The Horse Farm'

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